


Deduction & Deception

by Siriuslymoon



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Books, Coffee Shops, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Doctor John Watson, F/F, F/M, Gang, Hurt John Watson, John Watson Plays Rugby, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Tea, Unilock, Violence, cases, johnlock au, johnlock boarding school, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:00:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriuslymoon/pseuds/Siriuslymoon
Summary: “If inconvenient, love me anyway”- -John Watson doesn’t know what to expect when he leaves his London life to join St Hudson’s Boarding School. All he knows, is that it definitely wasn’t his curly haired genius of a roommate Sherlock Holmes.... or the trouble they manage to get into together.-John and Sherlock are roommates in a boarding school, falling deeply in love whilst the world continues to go on around them, cases appear, people get hurt, and the past eventually catches up.-A story of love, lies, Deception and deduction.





	Deduction & Deception

**Author's Note:**

> So I adore Johnlock, especially boarding school AU’s of it, so I decided to have a go at writing my own. 
> 
> This fic will be fairly long and I hope to post to it regularly. 
> 
> Let me know what you think and, enjoy.

“I’m not fucking going,” John slammed the envelope and its contents down onto his kitchen table, pushing out his chair and heading for the front door. The scraping of the wooden chair legs against the stone floors made John wince, and was sure to leave a mark, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder, fingers brushing over an old wound, the pain flaring up his shoulder made his right leg twitch in response.

He froze under the touch, veins filling with ice; making his body stiffen beneath his fathers hand.

“John,” his mother’s voice was soft and pleading, gently cutting through the tension.

“Please sit down” she stuttered, angling her head down at his chair.

He waited a moment longer, needing to go against the order, if only briefly- to protect his pride, and then shrugged his dad off, returning to his chair and resuming his strop.

“Son,” his father started and John nearly immediately stopped listening “this will be good for you, what with last month-..” His father cut himself off, no one wanted to discuss that- especially his parents.

John was fairly sure every one was trying to erase ‘the incident’ from their memories; whether or not anyone had been successful, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s a lot of money” John protested weakly, grasping for whatever excuse he could find, and staring up at his parents with pleading eyes.

“It’s a partial scholarship John; we’ll make up the rest” his father told him, voice hard and certainly not welcoming any form of discussion.

The Watsons weren’t poor, his father was a doctor and his mother a nurse, but what money they had never seemed to go very far.

It got spent on the house, on drinking, on travelling-

It definitely never saw the children. 

Neither did the Watson parents, they spent all day caring for complete strangers, and tnever seemed to have any left at the end of the day for their children- deciding to just ignore them completely.

Though John had quickly learned that it was the better option.

“It’s half way through a term” he tried another excuse, eyes darting between his parents, searching for a crack in their determination and coming up empty.

“You’re smarter then everyone at that school of yours, you’ll catch up at this one” his fathers sentences often sounded more like command’s than attempts at fatherly reassurance.

John thought for a moment, he did like the idea of feeling more academically challenged, his current school just seemed to breeze through education, without much mental stimulation. Which left John bored, and seeking stimulation elsewhere.

And he did like the idea of leaving this place, very much so.... he just didn’t want to run away from everything that had happened, he didn’t want to be seen as a coward.

“The rugby team” he thought aloud, he was captain of his schools team- and quite proud of that, he wasn’t quite ready to just give that up.

“They’ve got a team as well John,” his father sighed “and they’ve already said they want you to try out for it”

Huh..

The more John thought about it, the more he found himself finding positive’s within the idea.

The year had just started, and already John was growing bored- maybe a new school would do him good, maybe being away from his family too..

As if on cue his parents had began to bicker, voices rising and anger growing. John wasn’t even sure what they were fighting about, he never was...but he knew he was sick of it.

And in that moment John made up his mind, “I’m going”

—

And so, a few days of packing later, and John was on his way, him and his luggage piled tightly into a cab.

The school was a good few hours out of London, and while his family had offered to drive him up, the idea of being trapped in a car with them made him heave and hastily opt for a cab.

“It’ll be easier for me to go up alone in a cab, save you going there and back and wasting petrol” he told them, relieved when they didn’t fight him on it- not that he expected them to.

They all ate breakfast together, for once in a happy silence and for a moment John nearly regretted leaving. Sometimes his family could be tolerable, pleasant even, but the bad tended to outweigh the good. 

By the time lunch had rolled around everyone was at each other’s throats again and John was itching to get out. His eyes always finding their way to the door, or the clock, practically counting under his breath the minutes until he was free.

He gave everyone a hug, gripping his little sister Harriet tighter than the rest; laughing when she groaned into his shoulder from the pressure, but hugging him back anyway.

She was a few years younger than John, and while his chest ached with guilt at the thought of leaving her, he knew she’d be okay. After all she had inherited their fathers stubbornness, and quickly learnt John’s kindness- those two traits helping to balance her character and equipping her to deal with their parents.

“I’ll miss you” she had whispered into his shirt, eyes damp as they stared up at him, lashes glossy from the condensation.

“No you won’t” John grinned toothily, before pulling her to the side “listen Har, if anything happens- if anyone gets violent, you call me okay?? I’ll come get you”

John’s shoulder burned.

“At least one of us is getting out” Harriet chuckled, and John frowned.

“You’re smart, keep on studying and they’ll accept you too” he insisted, his thumbs running over the curves of her shoulders.

“I will” she promised, though she didn’t seem too enthusiastic.

He hugged her again before leaving, ignoring the tightness in his chest and the pain in his shoulder.

His family all stood waving at the door whilst he packed his bags into the boot of the cab, but had shut the door before he even pulled away.

Charming.

The cab ride was as pleasant as one might imagine a cab ride to be, for the first few hours at least. His driver was polite but quiet, simply switching on the radio and keeping his eyes glued to the road, not feeling inclined to participate in casual chit chat.

John had texted a few of his old mates for a while, the ones he wasn’t avoiding, as a way to pass the time but they were all complaining that he was leaving them. Some of them calling him a posh prick for going to a boarding school, others simply labelling him gay. 

He shook his head, oh how sweet his friends were.

Eventually he shut his phone off and just stared out the window, wondering whether or not he had made the right decision- though there wasn’t exactly much of one.

“Looks like there’s been an accident, we might be here a while” his driver informed him, switching the radio stations as the cab started going slower and slower.

John could feel his wallet groaning as they continued to hit traffic, the journey was beginning to take hours longer than expected. Not only was this gonna take the majority of his money, but it was also taking up the majority of his day. 

John just prayed he wasn’t missing some kind of induction. 

When the cars continued to cue, John fumbled in his bag before pulling out his biology book, reading the whole thing twice over the duration of the journey and bookmarking the pages he liked best.

“S’big innit ?” His driver spoke suddenly, startling John.

He was puzzled for a moment, wondering what exactly his driver was hiding up there. But then he shifted his gaze out of the window, suddenly noticing St Hudson’s school staring back at him.

“Woah..” his mouth fell open.

The grounds were much larger than he thought, than the pictures suggested- and greener too. The large fields at the back and front of the school were surrounded by trees with leaves of various shades, caging the school in an earthly beauty. 

He could see the vague outline of various sports pitches on the grass, and the bars of different nets, which made him smile.

The building itself was something out of a dream, it was made of old fading stone but had clearly been touched up quite recently, though all remodelling had clearly been done with the buildings history in mind.

It felt like John had stepped back in time, that this was some sort of royal building and he was a wayward knight seeking lodgings.

He had definitely spent too much of his childhood reading his sister fantasy stories..

John could see the suggestions of different buildings too, behind that of the main one, all forming together to make up the school. The windows were large and lined with dark wood, the doors matching in colours and inscribed with golden swirls. 

John looked over each red brick with wide eyes.

The cab driver grinned at John, “Welcome home mate”

Home... it seemed strange that John felt more in place here, than he ever did with his family.

-

He had denied help from the cab driver with his bags, he knew it would be a struggle to lug them all the way into the school and then all the way to his room but he didn’t want to seem pathetic.

Besides, the cabbie would probably charge him extra.

He stopped suddenly, pulling out his wallet to pay the driver- because he knew his parents wouldn’t have thought to do it, that would just be too considerate.

He took the money with a smile.

“Cheers, enjoy the school” he nodded at John, before clambering back inside his cab and pulling away.

And with that, John was alone. 

He checked his phone, seeing that it was already six in the evening, though he could have guessed the time from how the sky was darkening above him. The stars and streetlights glowing brighter in the lights absence.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, wrapped in the darkness. Staring up at the building that loomed over him; wondering if it made everyone feel as small as he did.

He felt smaller and smaller with every step he took towards the thing, the crunching of the gravel drive beneath his feet sending chills down his spine, until he had reached the inside of the main building, and was staring at a receptionist desk.

It was a grand piece of furniture, similar to ones he saw in the antique stores in London, made of dark wood to match the rest of the school, and piled high with folders and stray pieces of paper. He almost couldn’t see the lady hidden behind them, whether that was intended or not, he didn’t know.

“Name please” she ordered him, once she had become aware of his presence, though not once looking up from her computer screen- which was probably projecting a movie.

John shifted, moving his bag up on his good shoulder and trying to avoid leaning too heavily on his right leg as he got closer.

“Uh John. John Watson, I’m from-“

She held up a hand, indicating he should stop talking; which he did- abruptly.

He stood by the desk, an uncomfortable silence settling between them, but despite the awkwardness, John had no desire to break it; he was not in the mood for chit chat.

“Mrs Hudson wants to see you, for a chat” she told him, before looking back at her computer screen and deleting him from her focus.

“Of course she does” John muttered, picking up his things and heading further into the building.

“Oh and nice to meet you” he called back sardonically, before leaving her hearing range.

John studied the plan quickly, there were tall staircases which clearly led to a series of rooms, and corridors that led off in different directions. He was currently stood in a large entry way room with maps and directions, informing you off classrooms and student houses, as well as the various sport pitches. He looked the maps over briefly, not that he needed the directions- he had spent hours the night before studying the schools layout so that he wouldn’t have to end up asking for directions.

And with that information in mind he shoved his bags further up his shoulder and headed for Miss Hudson’s office.

His walk soon slowed, as he stared in amazement around him. There were paintings hung on every wall, some from students, some artists, but John stopped to appreciate them all the same. There seemed to be different rugs and lights every few steps, and John had to wonder if he had taken anything- and this very over the top building was just some drug induced hallucination.

But he was completely sober, and contained his little journey to the headmistress. Her office was at the furthest point of the main building, and by the time John had reached her door his leg was screaming out, the veins pulsing and his blood burning.

“John” she cried happily once he had knocked and opened her door, startling him slightly.

“Sorry I’m late- there was an accident on the motorway an-“ 

She shook her head, gesturing for him to come in closer.

“It’s fine John, don’t you worry. Come on in, shut that door behind you please, this room gets awfully cold” she grinned, and John looked over at the small heaters she had dotted around the room.

He did as told and shut the door, placing his bags down and taking a seat in the chair facing hers.

“You must be knackered, lugging those things about” she laughed, looking towards his luggage. He shrugged, saying it wasn’t too bad, even though his muscles were currently telling him otherwise.

Miss Hudson was an elderly lady, though still held onto essences of youth, her hair and makeup were done pleasantly and she had a way of holding herself that told John she was still alert and responsive. She was the kind of woman who John knew must have been beautiful at a younger age, though she still was, and must have led a rather interesting life.

“We’re very happy to have you here John” she told him, grinning in a way that lit her whole face up and sent a shock of warmth through John- though that could be the damn heaters.

“I’m very happy to be here” he responded with a nod, realising half way through his words that he actually meant it, and beaming back at her.

She made a noise that resembled a squeal and started sorting through her drawers, grinning the whole time, mumbling about sweet boys.

John looked over at the heaters, seeing the metal glowing from the production and puffing out a breath. 

It really was getting warm.

He rushed to open the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing more of his skin to the air, in the desperate hope to cool it.

“Here you go,” she passed him over a folder “that contains your schedules, room keys, list of teachers names, the house you’re in and room number. Now, you said you wanted to be a doctor, Yes?”

John nodded, and they slipped into conversation.

Miss Hudson was easy to talk to, she never seemed judgmental and always seemed to have the perfect response just waiting on the tip of her tongue.

It was eight o clock by the time he left her office, and while he would love to go and pass out in his room- he still had to go and meet his housemaster, a Mr Lestrade.

John took out the folder, winching at his photo that was tapped to the front, and hurrying to open it. He looked over the information and saw that he was in bakers building, which was on the far left side of the main building.

No wonder this school had so many sports teams, all the kids must be in great shape from all the bloody walking they have to do on a daily basis.

He took his time on the way to bakers buildings, marvelling at the feeling of the cold air against his heated skin, the gravelled path crunching beneath his feet, and running his eyes over each window.

He straightened, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of movement, the peeling back of a curtain and a face watching him, focused eyes meeting his immediately. He tried to look closer at one of the higher end windows, where he saw the motion, but once he blinked, the curtain was still again and the face no where to be seen.

“Her blooming sauna probably made me delirious.” He chuckled to himself, now at the entryway, “let’s just hope this building has proper heating”

“John Watson” a voice startled him, the second he had stepped into the room.

He span round, seeing a man walking up to him, and nodded slowly. 

It wasn’t exactly relaxing to have a stranger call your name, and begin to approach you- especially when the sky was so dark.

“Yes, Mr Lestrade?” He tried... he hoped.

The man was taller than John, but not intimidatingly so. He had dark hair, speckled with grey around the temples, and while age had touched parts of his face- such as his eyes and forehead, he still came across as young and trustworthy. 

He resembled the men his sister referred to as silver foxes, and while he may still be a bit young for the title- John would have to agree.

His expression was friendly, and he was currently grinning, a motion which seemed to shift the whole atmosphere of the room around them.

Luckily he nodded at the identification, and held out a hand for John to shake.

“That’s me, I’m the housemaster here, which unfortunately means I’m responsible for every one of you lot rooming here, so please be a good lad and make my job easy” he chuckled, leading John to his office on the ground floor.

“I’m also the coach of the rugby team for this house,” he added whilst they walked ”which you’re going to try out for, correct?” He asked, eyes wide and hopeful when he turned to look at John.

John laughed, “Yeah, yeah I am. Don’t think I could go too long without it to be honest sir”

And he couldn’t, it had become an outlet, some strange and rather physical version of therapy. Except he didn’t have to sit around and talk about the blame he felt, or the wrong he has caused, he simply got to throw a ball, and tackle people to the ground.

“That’s my boy, I was hoping you would. You did a good job with that teams of yours in London” he commented.

John’s face heated at the compliment, and he stuttered out a thank you, he never was good with Compliments.

“Just to warn you” they had stopped outside of an office, Lestrade name written across it “my heatings broke, so it gets ridiculously hot in here, but don’t worry I’ve cracked a few windows open”

Great. 

Did this building not have one room that was a reasonable temperature?

John did not have to worry however, about the room being too warm, as the second he entered it his skin was assaulted by the cold bitter air. Lestrade on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind or notice, making his way over to his leather desk chair and sitting himself down.

“I assume Miss Hudson didn’t actually tell you much about the school?” He asked, a fond expression on his face, and his tone one of familiarity.

John shook his head, despite speaking for hours, they hadn’t actually covered much information in relation to the school.

“Yeah, no she didn’t really. Did try to set me up with her granddaughter though” the pair of them laughed, Lestrade muttering something about it being typical of her. 

“Oh and she gave me this” he held up the folder, using his thumb to cover the photo of himself.

No matter how good looking people informed John he was, a photo of himself always seemed to render him a cringing mess.

Lestrade looked briefly at the pack of information, before moving to dig out his own; starting to tell John more about the school and the classes he would be taking, handing him a few more folders as he spoke.

But their conversation soon strayed from academics, and drifting over to sport.

Lestrade talked about the schools past games, told him how each house had their own team and who their rivals within the school were. He then moved on to the local schools, and which ones were, ‘full of twats for students but got damn good players’ 

John had fumbled to re button his shirt whilst they spoke, the chill of the late night air getting too much for him, and Lestrade had commented about how he should get used to it, “the buildings gets freezing at night”

Historic Architecture- 1  
John Watson’s body temperature- 0

“Oh” Lestrade quickly straightened, eyebrows raising, suddenly remembering something. “Curfew is at nine, and it’s currently,” he looked down at his watch “... ten... right well, you’re off this time because you’re new and you’ve been here speaking with me, but usually being out after curfew will result in punishment” he gave John a stern look, but his lips were still twitching into a smile.

John told him that he understood, and started collecting his bags again. Ashe leaned down to grab a handle his leg twitched and he hissed in response, rushing to grip and massage the muscle.

He ignored Lestrade sympathetic gaze, and rushed to tell him “I am cleared to play”

The older man shook his head, “oh I know don’t worry, but we do have physical therapy if you wanted to help with the pain” he opened the door for John.

“Thanks, uh maybe. So my rooms up there” he pointed up the staircase.

Lestrade chuckled at something, “Yeah floor two, room twenty one...Oh! And it’s too late to swap roommates” 

“Why would I want-“ he started.

But Lestrade had already walked off, throwing him a half hearted wave as he did, and leaving John to stare after him with his face scrunched in confusion.

Would John find himself wanting to swap roommates? 

Was there something wrong with his roommate?

Maybe it was the classic case of, new guy getting bumped with the reject no one else wanted.

John sighed, walking himself up the stairs and pausing every few moments to rest.

The stairs were dark oak, concealed by a deep red carpet and lit dimly by the chandelier that hung above his head. 

This school really was beautiful, historic- John always could appreciate good architecture. His family used to holiday in the country side, taking a break from the bustle of the city and venturing out on daily trips to the local historic buildings, they’d spend the whole day complaining but John would come home with a phone full of pictures and a smile on his face. 

As a kid he would pretend he lived in these grand buildings; that they were his home- and this time, John realised with a grin, it was actually true.

By the time he pulled himself out of his head he had reached the second floor, and was staring down a hallway of rooms.

He looked to the door on his right, seeing the number nine staring back at him in the metallic adornment, and the number ten on his left. The long hallway had rooms either side of the corridor and went on for a good few doors, like the hotels he often stayed at when away in rugby matches. 

He turned his nose up at the strange choice of carpet as he made his way to the end of the corridor and finally found room twenty one. He fished out his keys from the folder and hastily unlocked the room.

The room was lit only by the light John was letting in from the hallway, and despite Lestrade’a earlier mention of a roommate, both beds seemed to be empty.

Without thinking John shut the door behind him and finally shook off his bags, sighing at the ache in his muscles and let his body fall onto the nearest bed.

He led there for a moment, eyes fluttering in the darkness until-

“This ones occupied sweetheart”

**Author's Note:**

> ( ! Do not repost, or republish, this work anywhere- without my consent. Work should not be stolen and this is mine ! )


End file.
